History Revealed by Harper
by X3
Summary: Harper (reluctantly) tells his story


History Revealed by Harper 

By:  X

X0832001@yahoo.com

Rated: PG-13

Summary:  Harper (reluctantly) tells his story

A/N: This is another in my series of 1st person confessionals.  ("New Trance Tells her Story", "Tyr Tells All", and "Analysis by Andromeda")  

"So you want to hear the story of old Harper, well, Harper doesn't want to tell you. How about that." The metallic swish of a sword being drawn cut the air.  "Or maybe I do.  But you've been warned.  You get issues from hearing this; I'm not paying the therapy bill.

            I was born 24 years ago in the Boston refugee camp on Earth.  After the Commonwealth fell, and the Maggog had their fun, the Neitzchiens fenced in all the cities and subdivided them into easy to control sections.  We were ground so hard under their thumb that our bones were paste.  

            There was a food line.  Everyday you waited in that line with your stupid little ration card and some Uber gave you exactly 8oz of this beige grainy gruel.  He or sometimes she, dispensed this, the only sustenance they provided to their slave pool, from a cartridge in a shiny metal gun.  It clicked out exactly one portion and the Neitzchien threw you out of line with a shove.  We were always hungry, it's just a given on Earth.  On Earth you will never get enough to eat, you will get sick, and at some point in your life (a little more often than normal in my case) Neitzchiens will drag you into the street and beat you until you couldn't stand up anymore as an example of their superiority.  What makes wailing on a kid who is half your size and wheezing with pneumonia a sign of superior genes?  

            Not that we aren't tough little buggers on Earth.  I took care of my share of the Ubers.  Not a hero, I just raided the barracks of the forts that surrounded the city gates and annoyed them with shrillers, I was no James Bond. I just did what I could to get back at those bastards. In that hell you just worked to live one more day.  Sometimes that was a pretty difficult battle.  My fellow humans weren't always the nicest. Of course I wasn't real nice myself.  You had to defend what was yours.  

            We would wait for hours for that mush.  Sometimes it never came.  They would just stop bringing it, said there wasn't anymore.  You know food is the hottest item on the Earth black market. Things won't grow.  The soil is devoid of most nutrients and water can be scarce.  Most people don't know what it's like to go hungry.  Why don't I tell you?  Since you've got me spilling my guts here.  It's a gnawing on your insides that can twist you all sorts of ways, until you get so hungry you don't even feel it anymore, I lived in that state most of the time.  Finally, the hunger comes back so strong it knocks you off your feet.  

            It was about this time a plague of one kind or another would sweep through the camp.  We lived in the ruins of the old bombed out buildings, right on top of one another.  The diseases spread fast, mutated even faster.    It could be so cold at night.  You laid there, shivering and listening to the coughing, sneezing, and moaning.  All you could do was simply be grateful it wasn't you this time.  Earth not being a medical Mecca, if you got one of the plagues you were as good as dead.  Unfortunately, the sounds of the sick, it's not something you forget.  Your only hope for sanity is to develop an indifference to it; you know the people in the next room are moaning and whimpering because they are slipping away and they know it, but you ignore it.  Hey at least death was an escape from the misery of life.

            Then there were the Magogg.  Don't want to overlook them.  Maggog attacks were sudden.  Well for us anyway, the Neitzchiens always knew they were coming.  They'd hunker down in highly protected shelters and leave the camp gates open, a big all you can eat mudfoot buffet.  

Rev was special.  If anyone is shocked that I came to call a Maggog a friend I sure am.  I mean just look at what they did to my life.  I watched my cousins die because of them.  I watched my aunt, their mother, tears streaming down her face, end the lives of her children.  The buggers lived inside of me.  I felt them crawling, moving in my gut for months.  Trance and Rev said, dormant didn't mean dead.  I felt them shifting, moving around inside me.  I've spent more nights than I can count (Keep in mind I am a super genius and therefore can count pretty high) waking up screaming from nightmares about them.  

But Rev wasn't like the others.  He earned my trust.  Well, as much trust as I let myself trust anyone.  He had such faith; he made me believe that maybe there was a higher power. Growing up I was sure there was no God, or Divine, or whatever you want to call Him. My parents were Catholic, believed in God and all that stuff.  But the Neitzchiens stomped out their lives without a thought.  Good God fearing folks in Boston, living a miserable existence, seeing people die, dying slow, painful deaths themselves, I figured no higher power could be so cruel as to allow that.  

By the time I met Rev things were a bit better, I was off Earth on the Maru with Beka.  His faith in the Divine and a grand scheme that we just couldn't understand yet grew on me- a little.  I really am not sure if I believe in the Divine.  But, I think it might be nice if some higher power is out there watching over us.  It'd be nice to know the universe isn't completely random, that someone has a plan.  That's why I pray sometimes, I want the plan to stop including the deaths of my friends.  

 To tell you the truth, I am utterly amazed at how old I have gotten.  24, never thought I'd get this old.  Dylan is like 36 if you forget the 300-year time lapse.  Growing up 36 was ancient.  My mom and dad made it to 28 and 32, respectively.  My grandparents lived to be 52, 49, 38, and 42.  There are simply too many ways to die on Earth.  Starvation, dehydration, plagues, Maggog, work camps, death camps, exhaustion, all can kill you long before your hair has even grayed all the way.  

Beka is the one who saved me from Earth.  Technically it was Bobby who sent me a message about needing weapons, but she saved me.  I had no illusions that Bobby was going to keep me around, I was young not stupid.  I knew he was lying. But, the job did involve pissing off the Neitzchiens, as well as leaving Earth, so I jumped at the chance.  I figured I could convince them to leave me at a station or something rather than dumping me back on Earth.  It didn't matter where, anywhere had to be better than there.  I couldn't believe it when she told me I could stay.  

My loyalty is with her.  Always will be. Not that I won't follow Dylan.  I am at the service of both my bosses.  I am not actually for the bravely running away now.  I have a mission.  Somewhere along the way I actually came to want the universe to become a better place.  Believe me, I'm surprised too.  I spent years with the simple goal of living to make things better for me.  Now, my life is better than it has ever been and I am actually trying to help others.  

            I don't think there is any more to tell.  You know all about Harper now.  Congratulations and I hope you aren't too disturbed."


End file.
